


In the Silence

by hedakomskaikru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, The 100 Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedakomskaikru/pseuds/hedakomskaikru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a quiet transition. In that way that they did. In the silent way that they did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Silence

It had been a quiet transition.  
  
Most of their conversations already went that way. They would talk about the proceedings of the coalition, the order of business for the day, the leaders they would have to meet up with for the day, the several meetings with the townspeople that Clarke was surprised Lexa even entertained. And in the midst of all the official business, Clarke would sometimes look up and catch Lexa’s gaze on her, studying, longing.  
  
And sometimes it was Lexa who caught her.  
  
Like that time Clarke had sat in Lexa’s room. The blonde didn’t quite remember what had prompted her to visit. She only remember striding hesitantly to the commander’s room, and Lexa had only opened the door to her as if it was something that happened everyday. As if they often spent their idle time together.  
  
As if Clarke hadn’t tried to kill her.  
  
Lexa had gone so far as to fall asleep in her couch that day, book still in her hand. Clarke remembered thinking how young Lexa looked, then. How her usual stiff shoulders were soft against the pillows. How her arms that never seemed to fidget in agitation were lax in front of her. How Lexa was completely vulnerable at that time and she was completely vulnerable with Clarke there.  
And how Clarke wanted to immortalize this moment.  
  
And then Clarke, who had originally thought to make sketches about the forest that she could see from her room, who had convinced herself in the past few days that no, no, she can’t be falling for this again, can’t go through this road again, who had created a mantra in her head about how everything she did was premeditated, analyzed, and with reason, flipped to a new page in the sketchpad Lexa had given her a few days prior, and then her hand was moving across the page before she even thought about what or who she was drawing.  
  
Then she was lost, just like she always was when her fingers were occupied and her mind suddenly was clear of everything but the image in her head, the image in front of her.  
  
Without realizing it, she was taking note of things about Lexa that she’d already made note of in the past, but would never admit to herself that she actually remembered. The smooth angel of her jaw, her high cheekbones, the slim slope of her nose. And Clarke let her eyes flicker and linger on Lexa’s closed eyelids because she couldn’t believe how her first thought was how she missed the green depths that were Lexa’s eyes.  
  
But her hand continued to sweep through the page, filling in details that gave her the excuse to keep staring at the figure in front of her.  
  
Clarke couldn’t believe that the first time she fumbled in front of Lexa was when the brunette saw her drawing. Because she’d approached Lexa with an angry Indra in between them, she’d approached Lexa when the blonde was without guards the commander had her whole army behind her, she’d approached Lexa in more vulnerable circumstances. But she now, now she almost blushed because her drawing wasn’t done and it’s not her best work and she was sure she could maybe show Lexa some of her previous sketches instead.  
  
But Lexa had looked at her, in that silent way that she did, in the silent way that the two of them communicated, and Clarke felt bare.  
  
And from that moment, it felt like something changed, that maybe Clarke revealed a little too much.  
But she liked it.  
  
Because they didn’t need words, but it felt like something inside her has settled, something that changed between the two of them.  
  
And she felt it now as she entered Lexa’s room again, without prompt this time. Because nine days before, Lexa had woken her up from a nightmare and sat with her without pestering her for a recounting of the nightmare. Because seven days before, it was Clarke who had sat on Lexa’s bed as Lexa’s thrashing calmed, Clarke’s hand settling on her arm. Because a day after that they’d settled themselves seated, then lying beside the other, driving the other’s nightmares away.  
  
And just the day before Clarke had made the decision that maybe, maybe it was smarter to just fight each others demons by not fighting each other.  
  
So without talking about it, in that way that she did, in the way that they both did, Clarke entered Lexa’s room, to find the left side of the bed, her designated side of Lexa’s bed, free, as the commander sat on the other side with a book on her lap. Lexa had only looked up briefly, peering beneath her eyelashes, face framed by her wild hair, and maybe Clarke recognized that look, because it was the same one on Lexa’s eyes when the commander had chanced upon Clarke's sketch of her.  
  
Like Lexa couldn’t believe Clarke was there. Like she couldn’t believe they’ve come this far. Like she couldn’t believe Clarke could still tolerate her presence, never mind actually appreciate it.  
  
And while Clarke asked herself the same questions, when Lexa finally blew out the only candles left in the room, the ones on her bedside table, Clarke was the one who moved closer. She was the one who turned to her side so she could press her head to the side of Lexa’s shoulder.  
  
Clarke tried not to think about how Lexa’s scent was familiar to her already, but her eyes were already flickering closed, when it usually takes her a while to fall asleep, bogged down by the threat of nightmares. But she remembered waking to emerald eyes one night and knew that at least if they did happen again, she wouldn’t be alone anymore.  
  
She felt more than saw when Lexa moved, and her heart seemed to hollow out because Lexa had moved away. But then she felt Lexa’s breath on her face, Lexa’s hand searching hers underneath the sheets, Lexa’s fingers sliding between hers and then she was falling asleep.  
  
And maybe the next night, Lexa’s arm would come up to wrap around Clarke’s shoulders, and Clarke would be just that much closer to Lexa. Clarke’s arm had come up to rest on top of Lexa’s stomach. And if she woke up in that same position but her arm was tighter, more snug that Lexa had to wait for Clarke to wake up before getting up, Clarke kept quiet about it. Just like she’d chosen to keep quiet about catching Lexa looking at her when she finally shifted to check if Lexa was already awake.  
  
Honestly, Clarke just wanted to let it happen.  
  
By the next week, it was Lexa who shifted closer.  
  
Clarke actually slept alone for the first time in several days the night before, and she hadn’t seen Lexa until the night after that. Devoid of the face paint, Clarke could see the bags under her eyes. The commanders of the other clans had bore down in Lexa. She’d been issued another challenge a couple of days prior, and had to fight someone twice her size. If Clarke had been nervous when Lexa fought Roan, during the second challenge from the Podakru leader, Clarke had been terrified. They’d fought again, using the same arguments, but Lexa had pulled through. Lexa had been fast, and the duel ended too soon for the Podakru’s liking. Chastised, however, the representatives from the challenger kru did not just bow to Lexa when she strode towards them while the crowd cheered for her. The kru had laid on the grounds on their fronts.  
  
Now, the commander was sluggishly taking off her garb, unbuckling the supports slowly as she walked from the door of her room towards the bathroom. She had her undershirt half off already, exposing her stomach to Clarke, before she noticed that the blonde was in the room, too, and only because Clarke had maybe shifted in bed trying to catch a better glimpse of the exposed skin, rustling the sheets. It was enough to alert the heda, especially in the dead silence of the night.  
  
“Clarke.”  
  
“Maybe you should undress in the bathroom.”  
  
Clarke was sure she saw a tinge of pink on Lexa’s cheeks before the commander gave a small nod to follow Clarke’s advise.  
  
That was probably the first time Clarke saw Lexa blush.  
  
Lexa had exited in shorts that didn’t reach halfway down her thigh and a large shirt. Her muscles rippled while she made her way to the bed, almost falling over to her front. She grunted in pain, and then Clarke was sitting up.  
  
“Lexa-“  
  
“I’m fine, Clarke.”  
  
Clarke rolled her eyes, already figuring out what was wrong. The duel had left Lexa seemingly unscathed because the back of the axe the warrior had used hit her armor, and Lexa had merely stumbled a step before she retaliated. But Clarke was aware of how bad that could have been. Lexa was maybe the size of that warrior’s arm.  
  
So to prove her point, Clarke merely placed her hand on Lexa’s right ribs, just under her breasts, Clarke realized belatedly with a small thrill and maybe a blush, and applied the lightest of pressures. Lexa slapped her hand away.  
  
“That was not necessary.”  
  
Lexa was glaring at her with one eye, face already firmly planted on the soft pillows of their- HER bed. Really, the effect of the glare was completely ruined.  
  
And if Clarke was inclined (she wasn’t, of course she wasn’t), she would have probably leaned forward to press a kiss to Lexa’s nose, because maybe the big bad commander looked entirely too adorable in bed trying to glare even if her eyelids were already drooping.  
  
And because Clarke wasn’t inclined, she just rolled her eyes again, visible to the commander now and she was shifting back to lie down. “You need to avoid putting pressure on that. It’s probably a huge ass bruise.”  
  
Lexa huffed, closing her eyes already. And when she spoke, her words started to slur. “I will tend to move in my sleep, Clarke, it is unavoidable. How do you propose-“  
  
But Clarke was already wordlessly pulling the commander closer, and Lexa didn’t really have the strength to fight it, so she let Clarke pull her until Lexa’s head was on Clarke’s shoulder, her front snugly fit to Clarke’s side. That allowed Lexa’s side to be dependent on Clarke.  
  
“Sleep,” Clarke ordered, ignoring the heat that she felt was creeping up her neck at her bold move.  
  
Lexa didn’t really answer. Clarke tried not to smile when Lexa maybe actually snuggled closer. She tried not to think too much about how the commander seemed to like being held more than holding Clarke. Clarke decided she could do that more often. Or at least until Lexa’s side healed.  
  
Clarke kept doing it for weeks after that.

  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Clexa fic, and I'm thinking about maybe extending it if I can. Buuut it's a oneshot for now.


End file.
